


shall yourselves find blessing

by soundsandsweetairs



Category: Muppet Treasure Island (1996), Treasure Island - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Soft & Cozy & Tender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27840139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundsandsweetairs/pseuds/soundsandsweetairs
Summary: They’d decorated the inn for the season a month ago; the tree, the lights, and the constant tinkly Christmas music piping in over the radio got them good reviews from their guests during the month of December. But now, it was Christmas, they were closed for three precious days, and their friends would be over soon.
Relationships: Jim Hawkins/John Silver, Jim Hawkins/Long John Silver, Jim Hawkins/Long John Silver (Muppets)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	shall yourselves find blessing

Jim had been sent out to Tesco the morning of the 24th to pick up a bag of Brussels sprouts, which Silver had somehow forgotten when he’d done his big Christmas shopping trip. He’d slipped into the store just before it had closed for the holiday, fighting the crowds doing their last minute shopping and feeling glad that he wasn’t the harried checkout clerk. 

The cold air nipped at Jim’s cheeks and nose as he walked down the street back towards the Spyglass. He pulled his scarf tighter around him. Lights twinkled from nearly every house, a merry sight, though the day was grey and chilly. Jim waved at one of their neighbours as he passed. 

He swung open the door of the inn — their home — and was hit with a blast of hot air, and the scent of the turkey that Silver was roasting. His stomach growled. 

“Smells great!” Jim called out as he stomped the slush off his boots and removed his coat. 

“I hope you’ve got those Brussels sprouts for me, lad!” Silver’s voice carried over the tinny carols that were playing from the radio. 

Jim rolled his eyes. “Of course I do!” He peered through the doorway to the kitchen to find Silver in his messy apron, with multiple pots bubbling away on the stovetop. He was crimping aluminium foil over the top of a dish of potatoes that were ready to go in the oven. 

Jim set the bag on the counter. Silver flashed his teeth at him and pulled Jim over for a kiss. He tasted of the brandy for the pudding. Jim smiled against his lips. “Sampling the alcohol?”

“Ah, only a taste, Jim!” Silver winked at him. “Now, shoo, I have work to do before everyone gets here!”

Jim sidestepped the swat Silver aimed at his arse. “Alright, alright, good luck.”

There was a grin in Silver’s voice as he turned back to the stove. “Don’t need it, lad!”

“Of course not, you’re a professional!”

Silver’s laugh followed Jim out of the kitchen. “Set the table, would you?”

“Yessir!” Jim got the fine china out of the cupboard — it was a special occasion after all — then neatened up the gold tinsel that lined the bannister. They’d decorated the inn for the season a month ago; the tree, the lights, and the constant tinkly Christmas music piping in over the radio got them good reviews from their guests during the month of December. But now, it was Christmas, they were closed for three precious days, and their friends would be over soon. 

Jim thought back to that day, more than three years ago now, when he’d slipped into the Spyglass to get off the cold, wet Bristol streets. He’d only been passing through, fresh out of the Navy, with no family in the world and little idea of where his life would be headed next. He hadn’t expected to stay more than a couple of nights. But something in the innkeeper’s wild green eyes had caught his attention, and he and Silver had spent a long, wonderful evening swapping stories of the sea: Jim’s recent Navy deployment, Silver’s childhood growing up aboard fishing vessels, and the accident that had led to him losing his leg and retiring to run the inn instead. Jim had hung on Silver’s every word, and when Silver had reached over to pull him into a kiss, Jim had looked at him with wonder in his eyes. They had ended up in Silver’s bed in the gable room overlooking the harbour; Jim’s rented room had gone vacant. 

Days had turned into weeks, and before Jim knew it, he was helping around the inn and couldn’t imagine spending a night without Silver warm and ardent beside him. It had been the easiest thing in the world to decide to stay.

Jim was jolted from the memory by the doorbell ringing repeatedly. “Coming!” he shouted, as he finished adjusting the last shepherd figurines in the antique nativity set that was decorating the chimneypiece.

It was Pea and Jerry, looking festive in their bright hats and scarves. Jerry cuffed Jim on the arm as they crowded into the doorway. “Eh, Jimmy boy, merry Christmas!”

Jim grinned at them. Dinner was going to be a rowdy affair. “Come on in, you scoundrels. John’s in the kitchen, and is not to be disturbed—”

Both men barrelled on past Jim, through the lounge towards the kitchen. Ah, well, he’d tried! 

He hung their coats in the hall closet as shouts of greeting came from the next room. Jim stepped outside to flip on the multicoloured lights that lined the building’s roof. He smiled at the cheery holly wreath on the door. 

The rest of their guests arrived shortly — Monty, Polly, and Morgan tumbling out of the cab they’d taken from the other side of town, and Rizzo and Gonzo nearly toppling Jim over with a hug when they saw him. Jim laughed joyously as he returned the embrace. 

Everyone made themselves at home in the common areas of the inn, snacking on the mince pies that Silver had somehow found time to make, even with all the other cooking he’d done. Rizzo filled his plate. (“Leave space for dinner!” Jim warned. Rizzo looked confused at the suggestion.) Gonzo and Jerry appeared to be having a heated discussion about which was the best adaptation of _A Christmas Carol._

Finally, it was time to eat. Silver corralled them all to the dining table. “Come along, now, none of you gets fed until you all sit down!” They all did an awkward little dance around the table, trying to decide who would sit where. Jim smiled to himself. What a motley bunch! And yet, all family, in a way. Jim was so glad they’d brought everyone together for the holiday.

The meal was a resounding success, if Jim was the judge; Silver’s culinary stylings were always impressive, and he’d pulled out all the stops tonight. Their friends oohed and aahed over the turkey, which was browned to perfection and accompanied by Silver’s special recipe cranberry sauce and a magnificent variety of side dishes. Jim tucked in to the delicious stuffing. The conversation danced between them with nary a lull, full of laughter and smiles.

Once the last cracker was popped and the Christmas pudding reduced to only crumbs, they all sat around the table, groaning at their full bellies and finishing off enough mulled wine to surely keep them merry through the new year. Jim yawned enormously. A wonderful evening, spent with his favourite people. 

After bidding their guests goodbye (—Rizzo and Gonzo were the last to leave, flushed with drink and singing “Good King Wenceslas” rather louder than was necessarily tasteful—) Jim and Silver retired to the big sofa in the lounge. Jim slung his legs over Silver’s lap.

Silver stretched and wrapped his arm warm across Jim’s shoulders. “A successful dinner, I’d say.” He sounded well-pleased with himself as he toyed with Jim’s hair. 

Jim’s smile was sleepy. He rested his cheek against Silver’s arm. “You outdid yourself, as usual.”

Silver’s eyes crinkled. “Well, I do love cooking for the people I care about.”

Jim adored him. The lights on the tree cast a soft glow over them, threading red and green in Silver’s hair. “Merry Christmas, Darling” was playing quietly on the radio. Jim leant over to kiss Silver, fitting his hand to the spot where Silver’s neck and shoulder met. Silver indulged him. His lips and tongue were lazy and perfect on Jim’s. The music swelled, Karen Carpenter’s voice low and clear. _“Every day’s a holiday when I’m near to you…”_

Jim dragged his lips over to Silver’s ear. “Come to bed?”

Silver’s hand stopped its slow mapping of Jim’s back. “Aye, lad, I’d like that just fine.”

Jim pulled Silver up from the sofa, then flicked off the light switch, leaving only the twinkling lights on the tree illuminating the room. As they climbed the stairs, Jim looked back at the cozy sight. The colours reflected off the window and caught the shine in the tinsel. Jim felt a swell of contentment rush over him. A happy Christmas, indeed. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you have a safe and happy holiday season! Gonna be kind of a weird, lonely one for a lot of folks, I think, myself included. Sending my warmest wishes to you & yours.
> 
> @ my Brits out there: are Brussels sprouts really a vital part of Xmas dinner for you? Google tells me that’s right, but I’m finding it a bit wild.
> 
> (Re: the best Christmas Carol adaptation: obviously Muppet Xmas Carol is unmatched, no discussion needs to be had.)
> 
> Title from Good King Wenceslas.


End file.
